Eternity in an Hour
by Umecha
Summary: Modern-day reincarnation AU. Kaito doesn't know why Mizael insists on telling him one of the latest stories he's written, but still he listens.


Mizael and Kaito first meet in Physics 211, where they both manage to stop the lesson entirely for a good thirty minutes to debate the feasibility of the tachyonic antitelephone. After that incident, they took to calling each other colorful nicknames until they were finally forced to work on a group project together and begrudgingly acknowledge that the other wasn't _completely_ intolerable.

Kaito's been in college for a couple of semesters; it was annoying for a while until it leveled out to be only moderately annoying. He may have no idea what he's going to do later in life- be an engineer, maybe?- but he survived physical chemistry, so he's sure he'll work something out.

He knows Mizael's an astrophysics major whose dorm walls are so densely cluttered with star charts it's probably a fire hazard, and has a bookshelf stuffed with fantasy novellas and science fiction anthologies with the occasional dragon figurine stuck in a case between two covers. Mizael would volunteer his time to sort rare books in the library but he's too busy playing around in the astronomy tower or adding product to his long blonde hair to bother. Not that Kaito had gone out of his way to discover all of this information, but Mizael seems to want to hang out with him more and more, so it was only a matter of time before he uncovered it all.

Apparently, as he recently found out, Mizael is a fiction writer. 'Writer' is a term Kaito used loosely, because Mizael never actually wrote his stories down, but would instead recite his tales, usually when Kaito was trying to study for a test. Kaito had snuck a look at Mizael's desk once or twice, and it was cluttered with pages and pages of writing, but not a single word belonged to him.

It's grating at times because Mizael's not a very good storyteller. He sometimes stops the plot entirely to go off on tangents one moment, and embellishes other parts to ridiculousness the next. The story itself is interesting enough that Kaito can tolerate it; a legend of two dragon tamers of light and time in an endless battle for the title of master of the galaxies. It was a little outside of Kaito's tastes; he'd rather stick his nose in a chemistry magazine than look at one of the cluttered paperbacks that lined Mizael's bookshelves, but he keeps listening regardless.

Mizael always talks of tachyons and when Kaito points out tachyons are just hypothetical, he seethes and storms out of the library. Kaito only has to wait a few minutes, because by then Mizael is back and ends up sulking in one of the cushioned chairs with his eyes pinned to his theoretical physics textbook. Eventually, Kaito gets bored of hypothetical circuits and asks Mizael to continue, and Mizael puts down the book so quickly to dive right into the tale, it was like he'd been waiting for Kaito to ask the whole time.

"What does Tachyon Dragon look like?" Kaito asks, study sheets lying forgotten on his lap.

"Dark purple mechanical panels. Its crevices glow red with Barian energy when it charges itself up. It has metal prongs for claws and feet and has three thin, sectioned tails. It's so powerful that it can nullify all energy it encounters!"

"Are you sure it's really a dragon, or just a robot that looks like a dragon?"

"It's a dragon!" Mizael yells, his voice growing rougher in frustration, "It's the dragon of the future! How long do you think flesh is going to be exposed on the battlefield?"

"Uh-huh." Kaito just decides to nod, and keeps in mind to hide as much of Mizael's science fiction collection as he could the next time he hung out at Mizael's dorm. "What about the other one- the dragon of light, Photon Dragon?"

"Photon Dragon's all flesh, covered with some paneled armor in a few places. It has a jeweled forked tail and two forward pointing spines on it head. Its entire body glows bright teal with energy and it has big claws on its limbs. Both dragons have wings threaded with pure light." Mizael suddenly scoffs, crossing his arms proudly, "but Tachyon is _much_ better."

Kaito only kind of knew what Mizael was talking about, but the other boy seemed so energetic, he couldn't help but pay attention.

"They ended up being on opposite sides of a big conflict, but that doesn't matter. It was _destiny_," Mizael proudly declares, putting so much emphasis on the last word, Kaito would have thought Mizael was narrating some grand accomplishment of his own.

"So they're locked in a fated battle or something with each other on opposite sides. Don't they hate each other?"

"Can you really call two fates tied together by destiny to be limited to a simple word like 'hate'?"

"Are you telling me to describe it on my own? Isn't that cheating, asking your listener to come up with words for you?"

Mizael grimaces and nearly rips some of the pages of his textbook. He jumps out of his seat, yelling, "We'll settle this later, Kaito Tenjo!" with a slight tinge of red on his cheeks before stomping out. Kaito nearly gets kicked out of the library that day for causing a commotion, and just barely manages to slip out unharmed with his notes.

He doesn't see Mizael for a whole day until the blonde suddenly shows up at his dorm at ten in the evening, without even a warning text beforehand. "There's a satellite launch tonight. If we hike up to the hospital, we might be able to catch it."

Kaito blinks in complete surprise before finding his voice. "I'm busy. I have to figure out these practice questions."

"No, you don't. You're probably just doing your work a week ahead again."

"What's your point?" Kaito grumbles, "Do you how to quantify interfacial roughness?"

Mizael's face scrunches up with wordless rage, and it ended with him storming into the room and holding Kaito's laptop hostage until they saw the satellite. Kaito wasn't sure which was more persuasive, Mizael's threats that he'd throw the laptop out the third story window, or the large corner dent his laptop sustained when Mizael wrestled it out of its tangled nest of wires, but whatever it was, he's trudging outside in the chilly winds with his coat wrapped tightly around his body.

They walk uphill to the biology building through the wet grass and sleepy construction sites until the looming bricks shields them from the clamor of the highway. Kaito doesn't know how the slim Mizael is doing just fine in the harsh wind with nothing but a light jacket, but immunity to the cold seemed to be just another one of a long list of Mizael's eccentricities.

"There's too much light on the east side," Mizael grumbles, checking the compass on his phone as he squints towards the north horizon. "If we miss it—!" He trails off, glaring at the bricks as if he were threatening the building itself.

"I can see the stars though," Kaito points out.

"Not good enough. What time is it- agh, only three minutes left!" he fumes about directions and light pollution, but Kaito was only half listening.

He wanders drowsily to the metal railing of the terrace they were on, scanning the deep black sky for any flickers of light. Some of the stars glow more brightly than others, and as he counts each of the tiny ones trying so hard to shine, he starts to draw lines between them to form a picture. He imagines the great dragon of light soaring through the sky, scattering teal streaks of stardust from its wings. He catches sight of a shard of light making its way across the sky, much brighter than any plane- yeah, Photon would fly just like that— wait.

"Look!" he cries, and Mizael rushes over to his side, until both of them are pressed up so tightly against the railing, a gust of wind could easily blow them over. The bright light streaks across the sky, steadily climbing until its spark vanishes from sight. Only then is Kaito able to let his breath go.

"It looked more like a plane," he quickly remarks.

"It's not going to be like how it is in movies, you know."

"Is that how Photon Dragon flies? Like a streak of light?"

Mizael's eyes widens, and breaks into an eager grin. "I knew you were interested in my story!"

"Really, don't say it like that." Kaito's words slips out a little too easily. "Maybe if you tell other people it before you tell me, your presentation wouldn't be so bad."

"No!" Mizael practically spits his words out. "I'd never do that!"

Kaito quirks an eyebrow. "Why 'of course'? I didn't know it was so obvious."

"Do you think authors write for everyone in the world? Of course not, the hope that one person out a hundred, a hundred million, or even a quadrillion will be able to understand their work is what they strive for. The moment that one person reads their work and understands it, then that's more than enough for the author."

It's a bit of an unbelievable thought, but Kaito could sort of understand the sentiment. "So it's kind of like throwing a message bottle into the sea."

Mizael nods. "You're the only person who would understand this story. So nobody else deserves to hear it but you, and I won't ever tell it to anyone else."

Kaito was so ready to combat whatever Mizael said with a sharp comment, but for some reason he found himself sitting back and digesting the other's words. What was he even supposed to say to that? 'Thank you' seemed too bland and lifeless, and 'that's interesting' didn't have nearly enough depth to it. He exhales with a sharp, intrigued hum and says, "So tell me more."

Mizael does, and their trip back is filled with ancient temples atop mountains and world of crumbling red stones instead of cold winds.

It was nicer weather when Mizael kicks down his door for another stargazing trip. This time, he's talking about an aurora and that if they hike to the beach, they might be able to see it.

"Do you realize it's midnight?" Kaito's hair is still wet from the shower, and there are graphite marks all over his hands from scanning over pages of penciled notes.

"You're not sleeping anyway."

Kaito casts a wary look at his laptop, still dented from the last hostage crisis situation, and relents.

There weren't many streetlamps off campus, so the roads without sidewalks are only illuminated by the moonlight overhead and some of the weakly lit houses. More than once did Mizael accidentally trip over a rock and pretend like it never happened, and Kaito would have shot some snappy remarks if he hadn't nearly fallen over some stray branches himself. They somehow manage to reach the beach after taking the wrong turn down pitch-black streets twice, and Kaito has never been so glad to see dying lamplight and docks with peeling white paint before.

They turn onto the dry sand and scattered rocks and sat down, waiting until the clock struck one. Kaito was expecting a great aurora like he'd seen in pictures over the Alaskan skies with vibrant pinks and greens flowing like wind tousled fabric, but there is only a black sky dotted with stars. "I don't see anything," he says, after they've stared emptily for fifteen minutes.

Mizael squints at the horizon, spotted with a few lights of a faraway city across the water. A dull orange glow stains the sky above the city, but he passes it off as ugly light pollution before letting out a sigh and slumping down backwards onto the sand. He mutters disappointments under his breath and Kaito flings a few stones into the calm waters to pass the time, but still no aurora.

Kaito falls back besides Mizael, frowning at the sky for disappointing him, but when he stares hard, he spots something between the stars. It's a tiny ball of light, enough that he has to fish out his glasses to see it properly, but he's not imagining it, there really is a small speck darting across the sky like a confused ant. It moves to his left for a bit, and sometimes it wavers and swerves off course but then it continues onwards, and there's more than just one, there's two, ten, twenty, all skittering across the sky. He yells for Mizael to look, and when the blonde does so, he stares agape and in awe. It's no painting of color, but there's no way just a single picture could capture the traveling lights.

They behold the procession in silence for a few minutes, until Kaito finally breaks it with a, "So, what happened to the two dragon masters?"

"They had a final fight. On the moon."

"The _moon."_

"Yes, the moon! Don't say it so- disbelievingly!"

"Whatever, continue."

Mizael grumbles something under his breath, but he looks back at the flickering lights swimming across the sky. "They fought long and hard, even as the world was collapsing around them. The dragon master of light summoned his greatest companion, the prime dragon of light, and with the binding dragon, defeated his rival. With the conclusion of their great and noble battle, the creator dragon that formed the galaxies was reborn into the world, ready to be used to protect the destruction of the world. But the dragon master of light was human while his rival was not, so he ended up succumbing to the wounds he'd been holding back all his life, and died entrusting his rival with the dragons he'd gained, and all the hope in his heart."

"Died, huh."

"Yes, but his death was a noble one-" Mizael's voice cracks, and when Kaito looks over, he's wiping his eyes and shielding his face with his long hair. "I don't know why," his voice is stuffy and breathy, "but no matter how many times I recite that part out loud, I always mess up."

"Take your time," Kaito mumbles, trying to fight the sinking feeling in his chest. The more he thinks about that lone dragon master of light, bravely struggling to finish his fated fight against all odds, the more his lips turn down. His eyes hurt, and he has to rub them a bit to ease the blurriness that sweeps his vision away.

"The dragon master of time lived to fight against the great evil threatening their world," Mizael says, his voice steadying a bit, "And the dragon master of light's soul was dissolved into the body of the great creator dragon."

"I see," Kaito murmurs, his eyes still transfixed on the flickering lights. "Well, I don't like sad endings, but that's not too terrible. You're not such a bad storyteller after all."

Mizael nods wordlessly, wiping the last of his tears away from his face and gulping up large clumps of air.

"Thanks," Kaito says, and Mizael stops trying to regain his poise for a moment. "For telling me your story. I liked it."

"Did you really?"

"I'm not saying it again."

Mizael struggles to smirk triumphantly, but there's something genuine about the awkward smile on his face. "I'm glad."

"What does that mean?"

"You listened. That's more than enough."

Kaito snorts, but he knew Mizael would never say anything like that ever again. "Well, it's your story."

"For you."

"Seriously, don't say stuff like that. Whatever. If you wrote it for me, I'm willing to claim half of it."

"You don't get to—" Mizael seethes, but after a cough, he flattens his frown down. "Our story."

"Yeah. This is our story, and nobody else's. Now come on, it's late. If we hurry back, we can get some ice cream before the shop closes."


End file.
